May Busch explains the danger in beginning a statement with that demanding word ‘why’, and suggests other ways of getting the answers you need.
I’m a big fan of Simon Sinek’s Start With Why TED Talk and agree that understanding the purpose (both yours and others’) is crucial to success.
Yet when we’re conversing in everyday life, there are definitely situations when the word “why” at the start of a question is not your friend.
“Why” puts people on the defensive. It tends to come across as demanding and confrontational, as in “why are you late?” and “why did you do that?”.
If your intention is to demand, confront and put someone on the back foot, then by all means, “why” away.
When egos are at stake, or you want to invite people to engage with you, there are a host of better options.
My friend Nora (not her real name) is a non-executive director and shared with me her technique for phrasing concerns in a way that produces the best outcome.
When the Chief Financial Officer presented the company’s budget at the board meeting predicting a 10-fold increase in revenue, Nora’s first thought was as follows: “Why are you showing us this hockey-stick projection? You’re never in a month of Sundays going to make that budget”.
However, how to phrase that in a constructive way?
She chose the following:
“How do we know that a 10-fold increase can be achieved?” A rational discussion ensued.
In the end, it became clear to the management team that it needed to go back and review the numbers but, thanks to Nora’s deft questioning skills, everyone maintained their dignity in the process.
My personal favourite is: “What would need to be true in order for us to achieve that budget?”
Or another good way is to ask: “What would it take for that to happen?”
When you’re mentoring someone, a sign of success is that they leave your mentee feeling better than when they came in.
So it’s not useful to make them feel bad about themselves even though they may be coming to you for advice on how to extricate themselves from a tricky situation.
Instead of: “Why on earth did you say that to the client?” there’s always: “What were the circumstances that led to this situation?”
Also: “Why didn’t you put yourself forward for that role?” could become: “What was your thought process for deciding…”
This works surprisingly well in my personal life as well — an added bonus.
When our kids asked permission to go to an event and we weren’t very excited about it, it didn’t work very well to ask: “Why would you want to go to that?”
Worse yet: “Why should we let you go?” Not only are those questions hard to answer respectfully, they tend to cause an argument.
Instead: “Can you tell us more about it?” turned out to be a more neutral and successful way to get the information and assurances we wanted.
On those ‘rare’ occasions when family members are not falling in line and doing exactly what I want them to do when I want them to do it, it’s tempting to shout something like: “Why are you being so stubborn?”
Much as it feels satisfying to vent, my experience is that no constructive conversation has ever come from a question like that.
Plus, accusing someone else of being stubborn usually means I am appearing just as stubborn from their point of view. It’s a lose-lose situation.
What has worked better for me is to change tack and ask: “What would you prefer to do instead?”
At the board level, it’s all about the questions you ask, how you phrase them and how well you listen to the answers.
However, why wait until you’re in that rarefied atmosphere to put this to work? You can start getting the benefits right now no matter what your level.
Get to work learning to ask questions in a way that achieves your purpose… and with a minimum of collateral damage. It’s a skill that becomes more valuable the more senior you become.
*May Busch’s mission is to help leaders and their organisations achieve their full potential. She works with smart entrepreneurs and top managements to build their businesses. She can be contacted at [email protected].
This article first appeared on May’s blogsite.